Babysitting Hanna
by ZeeCorge
Summary: In need of money, Alive!teenageZombie babysits a five year old Hanna. Pointless fic, fluff.


I've wanted to write something for this fandom for a long time now, but I sucky at writing in general and can't even begin to write smut (which this contains none of). So I held off until I came across a request over at the Kinkmeme. I couldn't resist.

**Prompt:** Alive!teenageZombie babysitting Toddler!Hanna.

Please excuse any grammar and spelling errors. I suck. Thank you.

_**Characters belong to Tessa Stone, not me, blah-blah-blah, Disclaimer!**_

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You're pretty sure babysitting is a little girly. But you need a quick way to make money for that video game you want and at the age of fifteen your only options are mowing lawns in the hot summer heat or babysitting. So you take the latter. Which brings you standing nervously in front of a small bulletin board at the local supermarket. It's covered with fliers for lost dogs and people giving away kittens. But that's not why you're here, you're looking for an easy babysitting gig. You pass over one looking for someone to watch triplets, because one brat is more than enough. So you take a number tab from the ad about a five year old and run out of the store before anyone can see you.

A few days later you find yourself knocking on the door of the Cross residence a few minutes before six. You still feel dumb about babysitting a strangers kid but you really want that game and the mother didn't seem bothered by it when you spoke over the phone. Probably desperate for some time away.

The door is answered by a skinny woman with long fiery red hair. She smiles at you kindly and thanks you for coming over. You follow her into the living room where she starts giving instructions such as under no circumstances is Hanna allowed to have candy and emergency phone numbers. As she rattles on your golden-brown eyes begin to wander and land on a small figure peaking out of a room in the hallway. He's got short curly hair as red as his mothers, face pale and covered in freckles. The boy ducks back into the room when he notices your looking right back at him. Wait… Boy? Who names a boy Hanna?

A few minutes later Mr. and Mrs. Cross are pulling out of the driveway leaving you alone with the oddly named five year old. You slowly make your way to the door you saw him at. The door isn't shut completely so you lightly push it open revealing a room very much fit for a little girl. The walls are a pale pink with purple flowered curtains over the window. There are even Barbies and horse figures littered around the toy box. You idly wonder if his parents are even aware Hanna is a boy. Your eyes finally come to a rest on the boy himself, sitting on top of his pink covered bed, clutching a sock monkey to his chest.

Scratching at the short-black hair at the base of your neck you sit at the far end of the bed. "So… My name's Max." You offer lamely.

He fidgets slightly, not looking at you. "Hanna." He barely whispers.

Hanna seems terrified, if the way his eyes dart around and how he scoots even further away from you are anything to go by. It's likely this is the first time he's had a babysitter. There's a moment of silence as you try to think of a way to quell his fears. You again notice the sock monkey Hanna is holding onto as if it was a lifeline and smirk. "And who's this?" You ask, leaning over to lightly poke the stuffed animal in the stomach.

That instantly brings a change in the boys demeanor, his face lights up and he thrusts the monkey towards you. "This is Rupert!" He announces loudly.

You smile and take its little stuffed arm in your hand and give it a little shake. "It's nice to meet you, Rupert."

He giggles at your actions, forgetting his fears rather quickly. Without warning the boy jumps off his bed and looks at you. "Hey, will you play with me?" He asks with a pleading look on his face.

"Uh…" You hesitantly look back over at his toy box. Playing with a Barbie doll is the last thing you want to do. "… I dunno."

Cupping his hands together he drawls out a long "Pleeeeease!". Bright blue innocent eyes and wide smile revealing a missing front tooth work against you until you crack and concede.

You hold up your hands in defeat. "Alright, Alright." You say with a sigh. But Hanna saves you some embarrassment as he pulls a box of plastic dinosaurs from under his bed. And sure, playing with dinosaurs might be childish but it's a million times better than Barbie worrying about what to wear on her date with Ken.

For the next hour and a half you're Lenny the Triceratops trying not to be Harold the T-Rex's dinner. And you find you're actually enjoying it. It's easy to get lost in the five year olds imagination. But the mention of dinner reminds you of your babysitting duties. "Are you hungry Hanna?"

Hanna stops mid-roar with an expression like he suddenly remembers he has a stomach, which is empty apparently because he exclaims happily "YES!"

So the two of you make your way to the kitchen where he climbs into a chair and you open the fridge. "What would you like for dinner?" You question.

You're expecting candy or pizza as your answer, not "Pancakes!". You look at him a little puzzled. So he adds on a little 'please' and another pleading look. You may not be a good cook but you have managed to master pancakes so again you give in.

The five year old manages to scarf down seven whole pancakes and you wonder how someone so small can eat so much. You take his plate and put it in the sink before turning back, giving him a once over. His hands and face are covered in syrup. "Looks like it's time for a bath." You announce.

He pauses in his task of sticking his hands together and pulling them apart to whine. "Aw, but I don't need one!"

You smirk as you walk away. "Oh, yes you do." You hear him whine some more but he follows all the same.

After getting a pair of PJ's from his dresser you enter the bathroom. You kneel in front of the tub and begin running the water. As you're adjusting it to a nice warm temperature you feel a tug on the back of your shirt. Turning around you're met with Hanna holding a bottle out to you, you take and examine it for a moment. Bath bubbles. You smile before pouring some into the water. You both sit in silence for awhile, watching the tub fill with water and bubbles begin to rise. Then Hanna turns to the edge of the tub, picking up a bucket full of toys and carelessly dumps them into the tub, causing water to splash over you.

He looks at you apologetically. "S-sorry." He stutters weakly. You stand with a huff, turning off the water before leaving to wash the dishes.

Almost immediately you can hear him splashing about and talking to himself, or more likely to the toys.

You're about done washing the dishes when a sudden realization strikes you. The whole house is quiet, no sounds are coming from the bathroom. Dread creeps in as you dash to the bathroom, because really, drowning the kid isn't the way you'd like this night to end.

To your relief Hanna is sitting upright in the tub, hair heavily coated in shampoo, simply popping bubbles one-by-one with his index finger. You shake your head with a smile and make your way over. "Need some help there?" You ask.

He jumps slightly at the sound of your voice, obviously unaware you were even there. He turns and gives you a confused look, so you reiterate. "Need help getting the shampoo out of your hair?"

The boy nods and takes a small cup from the rim of the tub and hands it to you. You fill it with water and tilt his head back. But he starts to squirm and flail until you put your other hand over his eyes to protect them from the shampoo and water. Hanna calms down after that and his hair is washed clean with a few pours.

You release the plug to drain the water and walk over the cabinets to look for a towel. As you begin to pull out a big blue towel you hear a small yelp followed by a heavy thud. Turning back around you see Hanna sprawled out face-first on the floor, he must have slipped while trying to get out of the tub. You crouch down next to him and place a hand on his bare back. "Hanna, are you alright?"

"No, I fell." He whimpers, as if that wasn't obvious.

You wrap the towel around him before picking him up and sitting him down on the toilet seat. His left knee is scraped, bleeding just the tiniest bit. He's also looking down at the wound with watery eyes. You make your way to the medicine cabinet located behind the mirror and find a box of heart decorated band-aids.

You carefully place one over the injury and move to get up when Hanna looks up at you with a devastated expression. "Aren't you going to kiss it?" He asks pitifully. You give a moments pause, thinking how ridiculous it is to kiss a booboo but you can't deny that hurtful look he's giving you. So you quickly bend back down and give the lightest peck on top of the band-aid.

"Better?" You ask as you get up again. He nods happily as he jumps off the toilet, careful to keep the towel around him and goes to grab the PJ's off the sink. As he gets dressed you finish the last of the dishes.

Hanna comes into the kitchen, tugging his race car themed shirt down. "Now what?" He asks.

You dry your hands on a small towel hanging from the ovens handle and turn to him. "Now it's time for you to go to bed." You answer.

"B-but I'm not even-" There's a pause as he yawns. "-sleepy yet!" He says with a pout but the yawn makes his argument mute.

You chuckle as you turn him around and lead him towards his room. "Sure you're not."

He goes to the teddy bear night-light in the socket under the window and turns it on. You pull the covers back on his bed and tuck him in after he climbs in and lays down.

You're about to close the door when he calls out to you. You half expect him to ask for a good night kiss but he only timidly asks for you to leave the door open, so you do.

Hanna is sound asleep by the time his parents come home, and you leave your first and hopefully last babysitting job with the thirty bucks needed for that video game.


End file.
